Numb
by EpicArwen
Summary: Post 4x09  Lancelot du Lac . Guinevere has 'betrayed' Arthur with Lancelot and has been banished from Camelot. This is Gwen's POV. First of three parts.    Second - Ache; Third - Echo


Rating: K+  
>Disclaimer: I don't own anything Merlin, etc.<br>Summary: Post 4x09 (Lancelot du Lac). Guinevere has 'betrayed' Arthur with Lancelot and has been banished from Camelot. This is Gwen's POV. First of three parts.

__First part: Numb_  
><em>Second: Ache<em>  
><em>Third: Echo<em>_

* * *

><p><strong>Numb<strong>

_I cannot be without you. _

Those words are as true today as the day I spoke them nearly three weeks ago.

Even more so.

I have proof now.

Since leaving Camelot, I have learned much about myself. I can breathe, and still not live. I can stumble, fall – even bleed – and feel no pain. I can see the sun, sense its warmth touching my skin, yet my bones are as cold as those of a dead man.

For I am but a shadow of myself.

Broken.

Empty.

Numb.

News of Lancelot's death has reached me. I confess I feel neither regret nor sorrow. Guilt nor gratitude. I do not hate him, nor do I cherish fond memories of him. I, in fact, feel nothing.

Nothing.

Mary and John are worried about me. They do not say it, but I can see it in their eyes. I can hear it in hushed tones behind closed doors. They are relieved the gush of tears has ended. That the wellspring has dried, frozen by the harsh cold of isolation. And that I no longer break at the slightest gust of wind. But now, they want more for me. They want me to forget, to smile, to feel something.

Anything.

But how can one feel when one's heart is no longer beating in one's chest?

One cannot. _I_ cannot.

Coaxed from me by its owner years ago, my heart is with him now. In Camelot. And there it shall forever remain. I do not begrudge him his conquest. Nor do I blame him for its tattered state. When I placed it in his worthy hands, I gave him the unconditional right to do with it what he will.

Even crush it if he so desired.

Miraculously, he did not. Instead, he claimed it, embraced it. Like a master at his craft, he effortlessly weaved it into his own until there was a seamless tapestry with no loose ends, no broken strings. Delicate and bold. Soft and vibrant. The scene that emerged was breathtakingly flawless as together we hoped and dreamed and waited for the day he would courageously declare to the world that we were one.

That day came in the stillness of the night by flickering candlelight.

Until that moment, I didn't know happiness. Not really. Just as I didn't know what it meant to be truly alive in a truly perfect world. I knew no enemies and my friends, the people of Camelot, became my beloved ones. Even a snake in the grass received the benefit of my joy. Every smile, every laugh, every whispered word was burned into my memory. Each passionate kiss heightened the anticipation of our union just as every gentle caress reaffirmed that I was safe. I was home.

And so I claimed my place beside him.

Then Lancelot rode into the ring and the spell was broken.

That is, after all, what it must have been. For in what realm does a servant get to keep her prince? None that I know of, save the one in my dreams.

Given the betrayal staring my king in the face, he had no other choice but to banish me from his presence. No other choice...

Except my own death.

I think I would have preferred that.

Because living without him, I suffer a fresh death each day. Because living without him isn't living at all.

But I must find a way to do just that. How? I do not know. I only know that whatever actions I may have taken, I was always true to him. For I know my own heart. I have known it for years. And there hasn't been one beat, not one single beat, that has not spelled out Arthur Pendragon's name.

His and his alone.

I would stake my life on that.

So, how then, did it all go so wrong? How could I have done the things I've done? Been as overwhelmed as I was by a feeling that was dead and gone?

For it _was_ gone, you see. Contrary to my own past declaration, it _had_faded. It was taken over, like the dark of night is conquered by the light of day. It was buried beneath the weight of a love that had blossomed so delicately, so instinctively. A love tucked securely beneath the shelter of time and faith. Cultivated by patience and understanding, hope and longing, its roots spread deep and wide.

So deep, so wide, that they broke the rules of this world and found another in which to anchor their eternal roots.

I've learned this too.

Despite everything, I still trust in those roots. I believe in that world. Even more so, I want that world to live. Require those roots to remain steadfast.

But above all, I need Arthur to feel.

And I do so want to feel. Even knowing the devastation it will bring.

Because it is feelings that puts actions to thoughts. And my thoughts...oh, my thoughts...they have turned to truth and honor. And how both were stolen from me and replaced by lies and shame. For I now know that this betrayal was not of my doing. I have come to believe that the eternal loneliness I face was forced on me...on us. A planned act of spite, of revenge. A vicious stab at the very heart of Camelot.

By whom? I have my suspicions. Suspicions, but no proof.

And without proof...

As I pack my bag and turn my gaze in the direction of Camelot, I am determined. To prove myself. To restore my honor. And if I am at all deserving, to see Arthur's face once again.

For without him, I cannot be anything but a shadow of myself.

Broken.

Empty.

Numb.

The End


End file.
